


I Swear I'm(not) Fine!

by Carver_Edlund



Category: Criminal Minds
Genre: Drug Addiction, Emily's death, Hurt/Comfort, I Don't Even Know, Maybe - Freeform, Rehab, Relapse, Season 6-ish, Spencer Reid - Freeform, Spoilers for season 6, criminal minds - Freeform, what if Spencer took Dilaudid after Emily died
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-11-25
Updated: 2015-11-25
Packaged: 2018-05-03 07:36:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5282291
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Carver_Edlund/pseuds/Carver_Edlund
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prentiss has just "died". Morgan and Garcia's flirtations have been put on hold, Hotch, always the silent sufferer confides in his 5 year old son, JJ keeps quiet, and, worst of all, Reid relapses and starts taking dilaudid again, secretly. Then it is revealed that she is, in fact, alive. What will become of them?</p>
            </blockquote>





	I Swear I'm(not) Fine!

**Author's Note:**

> hey! this is my first Criminal minds fanfiction(you can read some of my supernatural fanfictions on my profile) and honestly, Reid's drug addiction is the most fun for me to write. I love Spencer Reid's character so freaking much haha... Anyway, thank you for reading! I would greatly appreciate some feedback or just comments in general. Thank you!! <3

There is something to be said about the way drugs burn inside the veins of a submissive body. It's dark, like you can feel the weight of the burden it will bring but sweet; a lullaby you can confide in. But It's so cruel, with it's euphoria and bliss, masking the physical and emotional pain of life. And Reid loves it. He can't seem to get enough of it, even when he has to turn to stealing and starving, just to get his next fix. It's pathetic, but he knows it like the back of his hand. He's studied it in his sobriety; 'how to prevent relapse' and 'long term effects of Dilaudid' and 'brain damage; dilaudid', but no health effects or warning can help him now.

It was always in the back of his mind, scrambling for a reason, any reason at all, to relapse; to stick that needle over his scars and create new ones. He always knew it would come to this, so he welcomed the cruel, sweet burn with open arms and bitten tongue. Of course he wouldn't tell anyone, he was already almost 28 now and the FBI didn't need nor want a brain marinated in chemicals, no matter his IQ. So he stuck to secretly carrying glass bottles everywhere and getting high in his freetime, completely aware of how pathetic he was.

Reid took out the needle and released his grip on the tourniquet, surrendering himself to the sweet drug induced euphoria that followed. In this state, he usually let his mind wander to places he'd never thought of before; memories he hadn't thought of in years. So he laid down on his couch and closed his eyes, releasing an emotional dam in his mind and enjoying the ride.

First, he thought of when he was a kid, coming home to his schizophrenic mother and messy home. It happened quite frequently, actually, his mother and her episodes, and even at the age of 5, he could tell his mother wasn't like any other. She would lock him in his room when she raged, throwing things at the walls and violently screaming the whole time. He had to cover his ears and hide in the closet to muffle the noise, tears streaming down his face, but his mouth unmoving.

Reid frowned. The morning after one of her episodes were always eerily silent, his mom exhausted from the meltdown. He would silently go to the kitchen, where his mother couldn't hear him, and make his lunch, getting ready for school. It stayed like this through college until he had his mother admitted. How could he do that to her? His own mother. Then again, she needed help and he was too much of a coward to admit it.

Then, Reid thought of the people he lost, Emily, being the most prominent. It wasn't like they were romantically involved at all; he saw her as one would view a sister or best friend. That's how he saw everyone at the BAU; as a family. His family. And well, losing one of them was as traumatic as it would've been if he had lost blood family. Reid cried. Boy, did he cry, but nothing came close to the numbness of dilaudid. He tells himself that this relapse is justified by a friends death, but deep down, he knows he was just looking for an excuse to escape his overwhelming mind and succumb to a blank silence. It was the only time he wasn't required to think and maybe thats what he was addicted to; the need for cerebral silence.

And his mind continued in a state of existence; still and floating. He seemed to fade in thought, relaxing into his mind and enjoying the darkness.

Somewhere in the distance, Reid heard his phone ring and he absently(out of habit) reached into his pocket and answered.

"Hello?" He cleared his throat and sat up, rubbing his eyes. A bit of drool had dried around his mouth and he wiped it off, looking outside at the bright sun and getting up to close the blinds.

"Hey Reid. Where are you? It's already 8:36. I've called you like 5 times." Morgan's voice came through the receiver, assertive, but worried. Reid checked his watch. Huh. When did he fall asleep?

"I'm sorry..I fell asleep and forgot to set the alarm. I'll be there in 15." Reid walked as he talked over to his bedroom, to find some clothes to wear for the day. He kicked some empty bottles aside so he could open his closet.

"Uh...huh...well, hurry up. Hotch is starting with the debriefing. I'll update you when you get here."

"Okay, sorry about this...It won't happen again." Reid shifted the phone to his other ear.

"No. It won't." And with that, the line went dead and Reid let out a sigh. How could he fall asleep like that?

He shedded yesterday's shirt and looked in the mirror. He was losing weight again, his skin was pale, his cheeks were hollow, and his eyes were darker than usual. Great.

With a brush of his teeth, change of clothes, and some coffee, he made his way to work(after stopping by his living room and stuffing two bottle into his bag).

**********

To say that tensions ran high when Reid walked through the door was an understatement, as everyone stopped what they were doing to glance at him. However, he decided to ignore the looks and sit down in the only open chair available in between Morgan and JJ. Garcia cleared her throat and continued on her briefing, staring daggers into the side of Reid head briefly. Reid stayed in a dazed state most of the time and didn't really hear when Hotch said the infamous "wheels up in thirty" so when everyone started to leave, he scrambled. As he got up and turned around, he almost ran into Morgan.

"Woah, woah. Hey, what's the rush?" Morgan grabbed Reid's upper arm to stabilize him.

"N-nothing." He cleared his throat. "I'm sorry. Can I just-"

"Nu-uh. Not until you tell me what's going on with you lately. I mean, I'm broken up over Emily's-" Reid flinched, "..death, too, but you seem to be doing the worst of us. Do you need help?" Morgan's voice was knowing and transformed from rough and demanding to smooth and sweet, like he was coaxing a child to sleep.

"No. I don't need any help. Why don't you people just leave me alone? I'm not a child you have to babysit. I'm an adult that's capable of rational thought! How about instead of sticking your nose into other people's business and projecting your own misery unto them, you go and find yourself a shrink or something?" He hadn't meant to snap, but all that rage just boiled over and revealed itself as hate. Immediately, Reid regretted his words, but Morgan's face was unchanging.

"It's not my misery I'm worried about, Reid."

"Then stop worrying! I'm fine! I swear!" His grip tightened on his bag and he pushed past Morgan and onto the walkway, where he could feel all of the stares. However, he ignored them and stormed off into the bathroom, hastily retrieving his bottles of Dilaudid and shooting up in record time. He smiled as he felt the bitterness and resentment melt away, leaving only bliss in it's place. Maybe he shouldn't have been so harsh toward Morgan. He did only want to offer his help and Reid will at least admit to himself that maybe he needs it. Maybe he really fucking needs it, but fear has always crippled him in times like these. Exposing his vulnerability like that is just too much for him. The fear of judgement, of the hateful stares, and going through rehab yet again. This is the only reason he hates it.

****

The hum of the engine bore deep in the back of his mind, as he laid his head against the cool wall and closed his eyes. It was relaxing, he guessed, but he wasn't dumb and he knew everyone was shooting concerned glances at him from the other side of the jet. He chose to ignore them all. Bringing light to an issue that could get him fired was not favorable to him, so instead he listened to their hushed conversations. Mostly, they were about the case, but occasionally he heard his name be mentioned.

It had been like this for weeks; almost an entire month, actually, and Reid could feel the tension in the air, ready to snap like a rubber band at any given moment. But alas, he wasn't the type to admit his troubles and so the pattern continued.

"Reid? Do you have any input?" Hotch's voice startled Reid.

"What...? Oh..uh..no." Reid cleared his throat, sitting up fully and blinking a few times to fix his hazy vision.

Hotch frowned deeper(if at all possible).

Rossi interjected, "Really? No input at all? Not even a statistic?"

"Well...um..the unsub is most likely from a rural part of the state and since he dropped the body in the middle of the woods, he most likely knows the area." Reid tried. He really did, to pay attention, but his mind kept dabbling into a daze.

"Yeah, Hotstuff, and how many people live in rural New York?" Garcia's voice presented itself from the small laptop that sat on the table.

Reid thought for a minute, calculating the amount slower than usual, "2,373,875."

"There's the boy genius we know and love." Garcia smiled and Reid nodded absently, "Well, with about 2 million people to chose from, I think it's safe to say I have a lot of research to do. Smell ya later, team." and with that, the screen went black.

"Alright, well Rossi and Seaver, you guys go to the last crime scene. Morgan, you and Reid head to the morgue and follow up with the ME. JJ and I'll get us set up at the police station." Hotch looked at everyone sternly, waiting for everyone's nods, before leaning back in his chair and going over the file once again.


End file.
